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Painful secrets,

hidden behind your perfumed heart,

Scars, wounds and many slashes

from the pain filled nights before,

the love that you had wore,

finally reached the deafening surface,

and made you torn...

Sparkles and glitter,

for every Friday night job,

or for hanging out with your friends,

the ones with jobs or no tied ends,

Then Saturday nights you lock yourself inside your room,

preparing for your end, your doom

You inject yourself with drugs to the plenty,

and cut designs and patterns into your beautiful skin,

What is the tempter to this sin?

How could someone so beautiful,

hate themselves so much within?